


best-laid schemes

by saiditallbefore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Betrothed/Spouse Has a Secret Identity, Developing Relationship, F/M, Las Vegas Wedding, Misunderstandings, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Secret Identity, Secrets, dumbass ex-assassins in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-24 00:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20017345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: Here’s the thing: Bucky didn’t mean to keep his identity a secret from Ava.  At least, not at first.-Ava doesn’t mean to lie.  It’s just— it’s not the whole truth.  She wouldn’t even know where to start with the whole truth.-Ava Starr and Bucky Barnes fall in love.  Neither one knows about the other’s real job.





	best-laid schemes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dinney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinney/gifts).



It starts like this: Ava is on a tour of all the coffee shops in San Francisco, enjoying her newfound freedom and health, when she sees a man looking at her. 

He's handsome, with long hair and scruff. He looks like he's seen some shit, but she can't exactly judge. 

He smiles at her, all handsome and charming. She smiles back.

She picks her coffee up from the counter moments after he does the same.

He hesitates— just for a moment— before offering his hand. The left hand, the one he passes the coffee cup into, is a high-tech prosthetic. It must be Wakandan technology; that’s not as rare as it used to be, before the Decimation.

“Bucky,” he says.

She raises an eyebrow. 

He snorts at her reaction. “Old nickname.”

She can’t quite read his expression, and doesn’t try to. Not yet. Instead, she shakes his hand. “Ava.”

It’s cool and foggy outside— all too common in the Bay Area— but Ava doesn’t notice. They wander in an aimless direction, and though she can’t help scanning the area for potential threats in the way that SHIELD trained her, most of her attention is on Bucky.

“So are you from San Francisco?” Ava tries not to make a face at how foreign the small talk feels on her tongue. This is how people talk to each other. She’s just… never had much reason to talk to other people.

“New York, actually,” Bucky says. “I’m out here on business.” He pauses and makes a face. “Well, my friend is out here on business, and he’s trying to drag me into it.”

Ava laughs. “I have some experience with those kind of friends.” Well, _friends_ might be a stretch. 

But he laughs too, and that was really the point.

* * *

“I can’t believe you ditched me,” Sam said, throwing his goggles at Bucky’s head. Bucky easily catches them and tosses them on the floor of the hotel room they’re staying in. “What are you grinning about?”

Bucky hadn’t realized he was grinning, and he tries to school his face. “None of your business. Asshole.”

“You left me to deal with Hank Pym by myself; the least you can do is tell me what you did with yourself.” Sam leans against a table, smirking at Bucky.

Bucky crosses his arms. “You had Lang with you.”

Sam raises his eyebrows.

Bucky throws up his arms. “I got coffee, that’s all.”

“Must’ve been a good cup of coffee.”

Sam’s an asshole, but he’s Bucky’s kind of asshole. Even if Sam is trying to drag Bucky back into Avenger business. If pressed, he might even say they’re friends.

“There was a woman,” Bucky admits.

“Getting coffee? I hear they do that,” Sam, the sarcastic piece of shit, says.

Bucky grits his teeth, considers ignoring Sam and letting him stew in his own curiosity. But he continues anyway. “We talked. She gave me her number.”

“Good for you.” Sam slaps Bucky’s shoulder, and moves toward the bathroom.

“I didn’t tell her about the Winter Soldier,” Bucky adds, and ducks from the towel Sam throws at his head.

“You fucking _idiot_.”

* * *

Ava’s been dragged into a team (“no, Scott, we are not calling it Team Ant-Man”) meeting, because Scott has inexplicably decided that they’re all on the same side now, and how they shouldn’t let the past get in the way.

Hank Pym is insufferable, but— she does owe Janet. And Scott and Hope aren’t the _worst_.

Besides, she still has her powers, thanks to Janet. And it’s kind of nice to use them for good for once.

Whatever the meeting was supposed to be about was long ago derailed by two different Lang digressions, three Pym lectures, and one Van Dyne-Pym squabble. So when Ava’s phone buzzes, she checks it without guilt.

Bucky traded phone numbers with her, but she didn’t really expect to hear from him again. 

_Hey_

_I had a lot of fun last week in SF_

Ava starts to type back, but hesitates. She had fun too, but it was just a coffee date. Not even a date, really. 

Her phone buzzes again.

_I’m gonna be in Las Vegas next weekend for a thing_

_Its not SF but it’s closer than NYC?_

_See you there._

“What are you smiling at?” Scott asks.

Ava slips her phone into her pocket and schools her expression. “Nothing. Idiot.”

* * *

“You’re going to Vegas?” Hank asks.

Ava crosses her arms. “Is that a problem?” 

“Of course not.” Janet places a hand on Hank’s, giving him a look.

“No, no,” Hank agrees. “But while you’re there, I was hoping you could… resolve an issue.”

Ava raises an eyebrow.

“Not like that,” Hank rushes to say. “An old colleague of mine took advantage of my disappearance to steal some of my technology. I was hoping you could recover it.”

“You ever wonder why all your old colleagues hate you?”

Hank looks mildly embarrassed.

Ava sighs, and mentally rearranges her itinerary. “Yeah, fine. I can do it.”

At least they aren’t asking why she’s going to Vegas. Ava doesn’t mean to keep Bucky a secret. It’s just— she’s had so few good things in her life. And however well-meaning the team she’s inadvertently landed herself on is, it’s been years since she’s shared any part of her life with anyone besides Dr. Foster.

It’s been years since she had anything in her life _to_ share.

* * *

Here’s the thing: Bucky didn’t _mean_ to keep his identity a secret from Ava. At least, not at first. Hell, how many one-armed guys named Bucky are out there, anyway?

But Wakandan medical technology isn’t as rare as it used to be in the rest of the world, and most people don’t give his arm a second glance. And he’s not the only person in the world with a nickname that stuck.

He probably should have fessed up then and there, but it was nice being on a date without fielding questions about HYDRA or the Avengers or World War II.

But he didn’t then, and he didn’t later, over text message, when she asked him what he did for a living. Instead, he tells her that he’s a consultant for a subsidiary of Stark Industries. It’s not _exactly_ a lie.

* * *

Las Vegas is hot and bright and loud. The bar they’re at is air conditioned, at least, but it’s packed full of tourists taking breaks from throwing their money away and the music is pulsing loud enough to give Ava a headache.

“This is terrible,” she tells Bucky. But she still downs her tequila— that, at least, is good.

He laughs. “It kind of is.” But his smile is infectious and Ava finds herself smiling back.

The moment hangs in the air, rife with potential. And then Bucky tilts his head toward the door.

“Want to get out of here?”

He’s handsome. He’s nice. She’s never had an opportunity to do this before, so even if it’s terrible, she can cross it off her bucket list.

And the look he’s giving her, and the heat it sends through her body, tells her that this sex probably _won’t_ be terrible— or anything close.

He takes her hand and pulls her along out of the bar. In the hallway, as they’re waiting for the elevator, he presses a kiss to her temple. She turns her head and kisses him on the lips— not too deeply, here in public, but enough to send a message.

The elevator chimes, and Ava and Bucky both climb in. She barely notices him pressing the button, because all she’s aware of his his hand on her waist. 

Bucky’s room is on the same floor as hers. She notes the convenience, even through her distraction. And then Bucky kisses her up against the wall, and she stops thinking at all.

They stumble into his room, a perfect mirror of her own. Bucky’s hand— the flesh-and-blood one— runs along the hem of her shirt, and heat pools under her skin. She pulls away from him for a moment and pulls her shirt over her head, hesitating only a moment before letting her bra follow after. When she looks back at Bucky, he’s done the same.

She takes a moment just to look at him— at the definition in his abs and pecs and arms, at the way his metal arm joins to his body just below the shoulder. 

When she looks up at his face, he’s gazing intently at her. Whatever he sees reflected back at him must reassure him, because he reaches out for her again, grazing his hands along her body as he presses kisses to her collarbone. She’s almost overwhelmed with sensation; she isn’t much used to touch, and this is far more than she is used to.

Ava follows his lead, running her hands along his abs and his back. 

Slowly, they move onto the bed, leaving trails of kisses up and down each other's bodies. Ava fumbles with Bucky's pants, pulling the waistband down. After a few moments, they're both completely naked.

Ava reaches for his dick, and moves her hand up and down it experimentally. Bucky groans, and she takes that as encouragement to keep going. 

He flips her over, so she's flat on her back while he kneels above her. The look on his face leaves her breathless.

Bucky skims his hands along her body, finally coming to her cunt. His flesh-and-blood hand rubs at her clit, and Ava sucks in a breath. It feels entirely different than when she does this to herself.

This goes on for what seems like forever and yet not long enough at all, and then he pulls away.

"Do you want—" Bucky begins. 

" _Yes_ ," Ava breathes. 

Bucky rolls on a condom and rubs her clit again. He slides inside of her, and Ava rolls her hips up to meet him. It feels— it's better than she had imagined. 

She leans up to kiss him, and they linger there for a long minute. When they break apart, Bucky begins to move, and Ava cries out as the friction pushes her over the edge until all she can see is stars.

* * *

Ava lies awake, waiting for Bucky’s breath to even out. She hadn’t been planning on going back to his hotel room with him, or she would have arranged their meeting for a different night.

This is going to be her best opportunity to get Pym’s technology back for him. She’s half-tempted to curl into Bucky’s side and go to sleep, and make excuses when she gets back to San Francisco.

But she made a commitment and she’s not going to break it— not even if the only person hurt is Hank Pym. So she eases herself out of bed, swipes Bucky’s spare hotel key off of the table, and slips out the door.

Back in her own room, she suits up with the ease of long practice. She doesn’t need it to stabilize herself anymore, but the modifications Hank and Hope and Janet have added to it enhance her powers, and the suit gives her some anonymity.

Ava had chosen her hotel with this job in mind— she only has to slip a few streets over to get to Luna Consolidated, the company run by Hank’s former colleague. 

For a supposedly secure building, it’s remarkably easy to break into. She turns invisible as she walks soundlessly through the halls— there are sure to be security cameras here.

She’s just starting to wonder if this is going to be _too_ easy when she sees a pair of heavily outfitted guards standing outside the office that houses the stolen tech.

Ava might be invisible, but even the dimmest guard is sure to notice if a door opens and closes on its own.

She phases back into visibility, and takes advantage of the guards’ surprise to punch the first one across the jaw. He stumbles back, and she takes out the other guard with a sweep of her legs. The first guard tries to shoot at her, but she uses her powers to briefly turn insubstantial and lets the bullet pass safely through her. 

Ava knocks him out, and steps into the office.

The far wall is entirely made up of windows. The other walls are covered with ultra-modern bookcases, full of art and tchotchkes and books that no one has ever read. 

The desk is made of glass, and so clean that Ava doubts anyone has ever worked at it in their life. 

She sighs, and begins to rifle through the bookcases, looking for something high-tech— or stupid— enough that it could have been made by Pym.

Eventually, she finds a safe behind one of the sets of books. She rolls her eyes. The safe wouldn’t even hold up against Scott’s idiot friends; it definitely isn’t going to keep out someone who can turn her arm intangible.

She pulls out the items, shrinks them down, and pockets them. Then, she runs toward the wall of windows, phases through them, and uses a grappling hook to break her fall. 

-

Ava stashes the tech in her hotel room and changes out of her Ghost suit. She slips down the hall and quietly opens the door to Bucky’s room, hoping he’s still asleep.

He isn’t.

He’s sitting up in bed, and even in the dim light, Ava has to admire the muscles in chest. 

“I thought you left,” he said.

She meets his eyes and smiles, forcing any feelings of guilt to the side. “I just had to get something from my room.”

Ava climbs into the bed next to him, and draws him close to her. Their lips collide together, and she breathes out a sigh.

When Ava was younger, Dr. Foster tried to teach her ways to deal with her phasing— and with the pain. One of those ways was mindfulness. 

“Be in the moment,” he used to say. “Just breathe, and don’t think about anything else.” 

Ava had never been able to do it. How could she, when all she could think about was pain? But here, kissing Bucky in a dark hotel room, she thinks she might understand. There’s nothing else except them that matters in this moment.

* * *

If Bucky had his way, he’d spend his whole time in Vegas with Ava. But he begs off early in the morning, promising to meet her by lunch, if not earlier— he really wasn’t lying when he told her that he had work to do.

He’s not the most subtle individual, but they’re running short on those these days. And Luna Consolidated is a pretty soft target.

Or it should have been.

Security is swarming in the lobby when he arrives. They’re no threat to him, not even close, but this is hardly going to be the stealth job he was planning.

Bucky rolls his shoulders and flexes his metal hand— his new Wakandan arm is lighter and more responsive than the old HYDRA one. That’s a feeling that never gets old.

Then he strides forward into the fray, wrenching the lobby doors open. 

Several of the guards fire at him. The shots go wide, or rebound off of his metal arm.

Normal people run when you shoot at them, but Bucky doesn’t speed up. It’s a tactic that always freaks people out, and these guards are no exception.

One of the guards drops his gun. The others fire, but their shots go even wider, this time.

Bucky knocks them out with little effort, then continues upstairs. 

The office he’s looking for is easy to find— mostly because there’s another pair of guards in front of it. One is knocked out, and the other is kneeling beside his partner.

Bucky doesn’t even have to raise a weapon; the guard whimpers and holds his hands above his head.

Okay. Maybe this _is_ too easy.

Bucky opens the door and surveys the destruction. Whoever broke in earlier— and it’s clear that someone did— was here, too. They ransacked the shelves and— broke the window? 

He considers that for half a second. Not a bad exit strategy, really.

The computer is still intact, though. And despite what Sam might say, Bucky knows perfectly well how to use a computer.

(Mostly.)

He manages to retrieve the data he came here after, though. And, well— the window is already broken. 

As he jumps out the window, dragging his metal arm along the window to slow his fall, he grins. 

Vegas is great.

* * *

It goes like that for a while: texting when they’re apart, and finding excuses to spend time together when they can.

Bucky tells her about his time in the army, about the years he spent travelling Eastern Europe and the years he spent living with goat farmers in Wakanda. He tells her that his best friend died in the aftermath of the Decimation.

She tells him that her parents died in an accident when she was young, that she was raised by a family friend, that she was just looking for a new direction for her life when the Snap happened.

Ava doesn’t mean to lie. It’s just— it’s not the whole truth. She wouldn’t even know where to start with the whole truth. “I have superpowers and I used to use them to kill people— actually, I still kill people sometimes but I try and avoid that now, mostly.”

Somehow, she feels like that wouldn’t go over well.

So when he asks her what she does, she tells him that she’s a consultant for a lab. That’s not really a lie, either; she’s on the payroll of Pym Technologies.

Not that work comes up very often, with them. Bucky is a consultant for a Stark Industries project, and the rivalry between the companies lives on. Hank would probably strand her in the Quantum Realm permanently if he thought she’d let the little insider information she had on Pym Technologies slip to his competition.

At some point, the team figures out that she’s seeing someone. 

Scott— who has unilaterally decided that they’re friends now— is the first to broach the subject, though Ava is sure that Janet, at least, suspected already.

“Oh my god, you’re dating someone!” he exclaims, cutting Hank off in the middle of— well, frankly, Ava isn’t sure what he was in the middle of talking about. Probably nothing important.

She schools her expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on, you’re smiling at your phone like a lovesick teenager,” Scott says. “I know what that means. Who is it? Do we know him? Her? Them?”

“Him.” Ava carefully considers her words, weighing each precious bit of information about Bucky. “He doesn’t live around here.”

Scott looks ready to ask more questions, but Hope nudges him. They share a look, and even as the conversation veers back on course, Ava knows it won’t be the last she hears about this. 

* * *

Ava is in her living room, flipping idly through a magazine, when she hears a crash in her kitchen. 

She jumps to her feet and dashes to the other room, readying herself for any number of dire possibilities.

Instead, she finds Scott Lang, looking vaguely abashed. 

“Get out of my house,” she tells him.

“I brought pizza.” He opens up a slightly dented box. “It’s Hawaiian, the best kind.”

Ava rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She grabs two beers out of the fridge and walks back to the living room.

Scott sits on the opposite end of the couch from her, the pizza box between them. “So… how are things?”

“Why are you here, Scott?” Somehow, the words aren’t nearly as biting as Ava meant for them to be. The pizza _is_ pretty good.

“You’re on Team Ant-Man, I _am_ Ant-Man—”

“Stop calling it that.”

“And personally, I cannot wait to meet your new boyfriend. When are you introducing him to the team?”

“I’m not.” Ava takes a swig of beer. 

“Oh, come on,” Scott says. “I know things are… complicated, but—”

“As far as he knows, I work for Pym Technologies.” It’s a little hard to say that without grimacing. 

Understanding dawns on Scott’s face. “You think you can keep all of this secret?” He makes a vague hand gesture that seems to indicate her entire body.

“It’ll be _fine_.” Ava bites into her pizza resolutely.

* * *

Sam thinks the whole thing is fucking hilarious.

“You know this is gonna blow up in your face, right?”

“Shut up,” Bucky growls, aiming a punch at him. Sam dodges easily, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Seriously, man, half the planet wants to date the Avengers.” Sam jabs a few punches at Bucky, but they’re easy to block. “You have to pick the one girl who doesn’t know who you are?”

“You make her sound like she’s an idiot.” Punch, block, kick. “She’s just— she’s smart, and interesting, and—”

“And I can’t believe no one told me what a sap you are.” Even without his wings, Sam is light on his feet, but they’ve been at this for a while and he’s starting to look winded.

“It’s going to be _fine_ ,” Bucky says. 

* * *

They meet in Vegas again, near the end of the year. It’s probably not the most romantic location, but as Ava walks down the street, hand-in-hand with Bucky, every sight feels brand-new.

They’ve each had a few drinks, and Ava is feeling pleasantly buzzed. She doesn’t have any jobs to do until she gets back home, and she has two whole days to spend with Bucky. For once in her life, everything is great.

They pass a wedding chapel, a grinning couple stepping out, and Ava laughs.

“People really do that here?”

She feels Bucky shrug. Then, “We could, you know.”

“We could what?” she asks.

He hesitates, and she suddenly understands. One look at his face is enough to convince her that he’s earnest.

“Forget it,” he says. He shakes his head, and his long hair flies everywhere.

“I just— I’ve never—” Ava tries to formulate her thoughts, tries to imagine a life where she and Bucky are _married_. 

Her life is already better than she ever dreamed it could be. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

Probably there was a time when Bucky had imagined a different sort of wedding. Before the war, before HYDRA, before—

Well, before.

But he’s alive, and there isn’t a single Nazi shooting at him, and Ava actually said yes. As far as he’s concerned, it’s a pretty fucking good day.

The ceremony is so simple it can hardly be called that: just him and Ava and a minister in a small, simple room. There’s a marriage certificate to sign, and then the minister takes a dozen photos of the two of them and lets them pick out the best.

It doesn’t look like a wedding photo. Neither one of them is dressed for a wedding; they’re dressed for the casual bar-hopping they had been doing before. But there’s something Bucky loves about the photo they select, anyway.

Maybe it’s the way Ava’s dark hair hangs around her shoulders. Maybe it’s the way they’re looking at each other, instead of the camera. Maybe it’s that they both look like the happiest people on Earth.

An hour after seeing the chapel, they stand outside, marriage certificate and wedding photo in hand.

“We need a frame for that,” Ava says.

“We need rings,” Bucky says. 

Ava laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound Bucky has ever heard. “I don’t think we’re very good at this.”

“I know one part we _are_ good at.” Bucky grins at her, and she leans forward and kisses him. 

* * *

Bucky comes home with her. 

“If there’s anything important in the city, I’ll hear about it,” he assures her.

Ava supposes the same is true for her, but she can’t imagine leaving San Francisco. It’s where her parents lived— and died— and it’s where she lived most of her life afterwards. 

Maybe she _should_ leave. Most of her memories are bad, after all. But it seems wrong to leave now that her life is better, now that she has good memories to go with the bad.

So she gladly accepts his offer, and brings him to her tiny apartment. 

She’s had people over, before. She can’t get rid of Scott, for one thing. But Ava feels strangely nervous as Bucky looks around. 

It’s not completely bare, but it’s emptier than other homes she’s seen. Her tchotchkes are few and far between, and she doesn’t have any photos to document her life. The one thing she does have is plants— lots of them. She likes the feeling of keeping something else alive.

At least, she didn’t. “We should put our wedding picture up,” she says.

Bucky looks at her and smiles. “Anywhere in particular?”

“Right here.” She touches the wall right across from the front door. “We’ll be able to see it whenever we come in.”

* * *

Bucky knows things are about to go to hell when he answers a knock at Ava's door— _their_ door, now— and sees Sam standing there.

Bucky tries to slam the door back closed, but Sam catches it with his foot.

"You didn't invite me to the wedding," he says, sounding mock-hurt.

By now, Ava has heard the commotion and stepped into the front hallway. "What's going on?"

Bucky shoots Sam a warning look. 

"And you must be Ava," Sam says, stepping forward to shake Ava's hand. "I can't believe you put up with this idiot."

"You're the one who flew across the country to harass me," Bucky points out, following Sam down the hallway and into the kitchen. Sam makes himself at home, pulling a beer out of the fridge.

Sam pops the beer open. “You always think everything’s about you.”

“I would tell you to have a beer, but…” Ava trails off, looking pointedly at the drink in Sam’s hand.

Bucky accepts the inevitable, and introduces them. “Sam, Ava. Ava, this is Sam. We work together.”

“We’re friends.” Sam flashes Ava a grin.

“Sometimes,” Bucky allows.

“You wound me, Barnes.”

Ava’s about to speak, but she’s interrupted by the _thud_ of something heavy hitting the window.

Before Bucky can wonder which of their enemies have found him here, Ava rolls her eyes and opens the window. 

“Scott! Stop trying to break into my apartment, you moron!” 

Scott Lang, dressed in his Ant-Man gear and holding a pizza, unshrinks in the middle of the kitchen. "Aw, come on, I brought food—" He stops short when he sees Sam and Bucky.

"Wilson!" Scott exclaims.

"Tic-tac!" 

The pizza is discarded as Sam and Scott execute an elaborate and frankly obnoxious handshake.

Then Scott turns to Bucky. “Come on, Barnes, don’t leave me hanging.”

"You know each other," Ava says flatly.

“Well, yeah,” Scott says, before Bucky can come up with anything. “There was that whole thing with the Avengers in Germany— Barnes got away, but Wilson and I ended up in prison for a while and I had to cut a deal— it was before we met but it was a whole thing.” He looks between them. “Wait, how do you know each other?” 

“You’re an _Avenger_?” Ava cries.

Bucky wiggles his hand back and forth. “It’s complicated.”

Sam slaps the back of his head. “He’s an Avenger.”

Meanwhile, Scott is gleefully looking between the two of them. “He’s— _he’s_ the secret boyfriend, isn’t he? Oh my god, you guys are gonna be such a great superpowered asskicking team together.”

“Secret _husband_ ,” Ava says.

At the same time, Bucky says, “Super _what_?”

* * *

After their stories come spilling out, after they get rid of Scott and Sam, after it’s just the two of them, alone again—

Ava doesn’t know what to say. And judging from his silence, neither does Bucky.

She wants to yell, to cry, to be angry at him for lying to her. But that would just make her a hypocrite.

* * *

Ava silently slips though the wall of the old military base, ignoring the bickering voices in her ear. Some terrorist wanna-bes have been building a weapons cache here, and Team Ant-Man— a name that has apparently stuck, despite everyone’s best efforts— is going to take care of it.

Their plans for a stealthy infiltration quickly go sideways, as usual. There are more guards than expected, and it quickly turns into a shootout.

“Need some help?”

Ava turns, and she sees Bucky: dressed in an armored jacket, his metal arm exposed, holding an impossibly large gun. For the first time since she’s known him, he looks dangerous.

Ava phases intangible to avoid a bullet. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you.” As he speaks, Ava catches a glimpse of Captain America— Bucky’s friend Sam— flying past. Bucky fires a handful of rounds back at the shooters.

Ava’s still not sure if she’s forgives him. If there’s anything to forgive. But the middle of a firefight isn’t the time to think about that.

“We need to get those weapons,” she says instead.

Bucky raises his gun. “Let’s go.”

Still intangible, Ava dashes ahead of him, letting bullets phase harmlessly through her. In the corner of her eye, she catches glimpses of Scott and Hope, rapidly shrinking and unshrinking. Bucky is shooting from behind her, picking off the shooters.

Ava runs toward one of the guards and makes herself tangible for long enough that her kick to his chest lands a solid blow. She takes his gun, shoots him, becomes intangible, and tosses the weapon aside before continuing on. It would only weigh her down.

It doesn’t take long to reach the base that’s housing the weapons cache. Bucky joins her a moment after. From the chatter in her earpiece, Ava knows that Scott and Hope, with Sam’s help, are handling the remainder of the guards outside. 

But as Ava looks at the weapons— all of them military-grade, at the least, and some more cutting-edge— she wishes their places were reversed.

“What are we going to do with all of this?” she asks.

“What were you planning on doing?” 

“Shrink it and transport it. But I don’t usually carry the gear for that.”

Bucky looks thoughtful. “We could blow it up.”

Ava snorts. “Explosives aren’t part of my everyday carry.”

Bucky shifts.

Ava laughs. 

She and Bucky set the explosives , then she conveys the plan over her earpiece to the rest of the team, so they can get clear.

It’s the work of a moment to light them. Ava doesn’t work much with explosives— she never did, even at SHIELD. But she still knows what she’s doing, and so does Bucky.

Ava and Bucky run for cover. Without thinking, she reaches for his hand— and finds him reaching for hers. 

Hand-in-hand, they race away. Behind them, Ava hears the base explode and reflexively phases both herself and Bucky intangible. 

They tumble out of the way of the debris. When Ava looks up, she’s looking directly into Bucky’s eyes.

He pushes a lock of hair out of her face. She leans forward, embracing him and kissing him. 

Finally, they pull apart.

Bucky smiles at her. “I can’t wait to do that again.” 

She can’t help but smile back.


End file.
